"I was afraid I would frighten you away if I spoke," said Phil, gently. "Oh no," replied the fairy who had addressed him; "we are in the habit of talking to children, though they do not always know it." "And what do you tell them?" asked Phil, eagerly. "All sorts of nice things." "Do you tell them all they want to know?" "Oh no," laughed the fairy, with a silvery little voice like a canary-bird's. "We cannot do that, for we do not know enough to be able to: some children are much wiser than we. I dare say you are." "Indeed I am not," said Phil, a little sadly; "there are so many things that puzzle me. I thought that perhaps, as you came from the stars, you knew something of astronomy." "What a long, long word that is!" laughed the fairy again. "But we are wind fairies; and yet the Father of the Winds is called Astraeus: that sounds something like your long word, does it not?" "It sounds more like Astrea, and that means a star." "Why, where did you learn so much?" "I saw it in a big book called a dictionary." "Another long word. Doesn't your head ache?" "Sometimes, not now. I have not any books now, except picture-books." "Did you ever have?" "Oh yes; when papa was living we had books and pictures and many beautiful things; but there was a great fire, and all sorts of trouble, and now I have only Lisa. But Lisa does not understand as papa did; it was he showed me that word in the dictionary." "Oh, don't say that great ugly word again! Shall I tell my friends to make some more music?" "Yes, please." The wind fairy struck her little hands together, and waved her wings. In a moment the little white troop danced over the strings of the harp, and brought out sweet, wild strains, that made Phil nearly cry for joy. They seemed to be dancing as they did it, for they would join hands and sway to and fro; then, parting, they wound in and out in graceful, wreath-like motions, and the tiny stars on their foreheads flashed like diamonds. Up and down they went, the length of the strings, then across, then back again; and all the time the sweet wild music kept vibrating. "How lovely! how lovely!" said Phil, when there was a pause. "I am so glad you like it! we often make music for people, and they hardly hear it," said the fairy. "I do not see how they can help hearing," said Phil. "Why, I'll tell you how: we frequently are in the tree-tops, or whirling about low bushes; every soft breeze that blows has some of our music in it, for there are many of us; and yet very few people pay attention to these sounds." "When the wind screams and roars in winter, is it you, then, who does that too?" asked Phil.